


The innocence of her despair

by DevilLight



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 01:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilLight/pseuds/DevilLight
Summary: Enoshima Junko at the end.My first fic.





	The innocence of her despair

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [L'innocenza della sua disperazione](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/430976) by DevilLight (me). 



Enoshima Junko. The Fantastic Academic Despair.  
She stared at them blankly, without really seeing it. The hope of which so much praise lapped on their, like a slimy snake waiting for the guard to lower to strike. Strange as the most suitable metaphor for despair, death, suffering she felt it for something positive, which in their faces gave determination. She felt it like a weight on her chest. He crushed her, almost preventing her from breathing.  
The world he had desired, filled with rubble, of charred dreams, of madness that spread more and more every day was out there and she wanted to increase her agony more and more. The show about the murders. To show everyone how imprisonment, isolation, distrust and, above all, desperation could reach the extreme limits of murder.  
Everything was perfect in his mind, it was a shiver to see the wide eyes of those who were punished, the chilling screams of those who found the body and the breathless and extreme search for the culprit, the clues that were found, the secrets that rose to the surface, the panic and the rivalry that killed the hearts of each of it at the debates. It was all sublime, pleasant. A fulfilling and dependent feeling.  
Then the final challenge, a condensation of adrenaline and expectation that passed in every cell of the body, made her tremble while waiting for the last trial. He wanted it to be the second greatest despair that man had ever tried and had ever witnessed. Every doubt unveiled, every mystery brought to light. He played cards discovered.  
That was she who had lost, however, every trace of doubt in the hearts of her adversaries had disappeared, a renewed and bright light shone in their eyes, it was warm and reassuring, pointed at her. He hated him, he hated that fire of hope, of revenge. The icy desperation that he wanted to inspire evaporated and flowed away, as if driven by a wind, he fell heavily on her.  
Reached but never savored, with the blissful innocence of a bee that will never taste its honey, that feeling that now boiled in her veins, the boiling ice that vibrated in her heart was foreign to her.  
_Impetuous, persuasive, exciting. Wonderful. ___  
She felt it inside as if it were his organs, his soul absorbed it drawing an infinite joy, with the childish ecstasy that you can experience the first time you eat a cake or staring into the dead eyes of a dead person. Was this what had been lost for all that time? Was this what he had given to others, receiving nothing in return? How could he live without before?  
What an empty life his, without feeling the brain tightened in a vice, without the heart that accelerated the beats closed in a sharp cage, without the fast, short and breathless breath that burns and tears the lungs. Without escape, with the only damn certainty that would be found, Enoshima laughed with pure joy. A rampant and petty folly that had never made her feel so good in her life screamed her victory and laughed with it.  
She had lost and could not ask for anything better. It was for what he had been waiting for all his life.  
With his heavy head and leaden legs, the smile of mad joy on his face accompanied him all the way. The last and supreme stage of despair: the infernal punishment.  
She closed his eyes with tears still falling down her cheeks, the body a now decommissioned and unusable envelope, the metallic searing of blood in his mouth, the sound of the press rising. She was ready, with the terror of those who look death in the face and the sweet surrender of those who throw themselves into there. The only time it was worth living for: the final desperation of death that came.  
Enoshima did not feel that feeling, it was quick, immediate and painless, she did not have time to try all this.  
Her despair became only a mad patch of blood on a press destined to become rust over time.  
Only the remnants of a new world forged with hope remained of his despair. Nothing was left of Enoshima Junko, part of a past that had been canceled.  
Enoshima Junko. The Fantastic Academic Despair.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, I apologize for the mistakes


End file.
